


To Defend and Fight

by Ella (ellabellachicketychella)



Series: why do the stars shine so bright [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Foster Kid Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, broganes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellabellachicketychella/pseuds/Ella
Summary: From the second Keith was born, he was fighting, screaming and yelling for someone who was always going to leave him anyway. Someone who knew that Keith would and could never stop fighting, as long as he lived.Lance was born defending, trying to protect his mother from the cruelty of the world, as she cried softly with happiness about her little boy and how, he was alive and happy. Still Lance tried to protect.---Or, Keith and Lance's early lives, told through both themselves and others they knew.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: why do the stars shine so bright [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979423
Comments: 13
Kudos: 186





	1. The Fight In His Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go!!!!! This is my big series! 
> 
> A few Content Warnings/Trigger Warnings, Lance does get bullied, it's not shown in massive detail, but it does happen. And Keith, well he kinda got abused, which goes into more detail. So be careful! And enjoy!

Keith was born fighting. Fighting for a mother who would never return, fighting for his life because he wasn’t supposed to survive for a long time. A Galra and Human baby shouldn’t have lived this long already.

He was screaming and wailing, trying to grab his mother, fighting and screaming.

Even when he was born he was fighting.

\----

The first proper fight Keith got into he was young, he was small, maybe three or four, toddling around the daycare that his father had put him in for some unknown reason. He had sat down at a table.

Got his crayons out and started to draw. It was just a cat. The cat that lived nearby too, to where his dad and him lived. It came to eat a lot at their house. Keith was living his best life, drawing, as a girl talked to him.

She was nice.

What wasn’t so nice was the boy who walked up next. Deathly pale with wide eyes and a scowl on his face. Then the boy proceeded to prod Keith in the chest who looked up from his cat drawing with a glare on his face.

“Why are you talking to her?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you talkin’ to her, freak?” He said, slightly louder this time and Keith just narrowed his eyebrows at him. “Answer me!”

“Because I’m drawing a cat…” Keith said slowly, not sure if these were the words he was supposed to say or not.

Then that must have set this four-year-old off because next thing Keith knew he was on the ground and his chin was throbbing. Keith picked up the chair he was sitting on and chucked it at the boy.

That was how Keith Kogane won his first fight. The fight of many, many, many fights.

\----

His second fight wasn’t long afterwards. He’d won that one too, actually hit a kid enough that the kid was bruised and they had to call in Keith’s dad.

Keith was sitting in the office of the lady in charge. Arms crossed, glaring straight ahead and not looking at anything in particular because Keith wasn’t going to cry.

Someone rushed in and Keith knew it wasn’t his dad. The footsteps were too quick and too loud and there was what was, essentially, screeching as the person walked. “He should get kicked out! Who dare touch my child!” She continued ranting and raving as she held her child.

Finally, Keith’s dad showed up. Feet scuffing the floor. He entered, and Keith spun around in his chair. He looked as raggedy as ever and he looked like his dad, through and through. Keith couldn’t help but smile.

His dad looked at him. He sighed.

“Thank you for coming Scott,” the woman in charge, Mrs Barrett said. “I wish it would’ve been in better circumstances.”

“No problem Melissa,” his dad said with a kind smile. “What did he do?”

“He started it!” Keith yelled. “I don’t start fights!”

“That’s true buddy,” his dad said, hands on Keith’s shoulders as he stood behind the chair. “Can you explain what happened to Mrs Barrett and I?”

Keith pouted. “We were making mothers day cards. Then I told Mrs Barrett I didn’t have a mother so who would I make the card for, and then he called me a freak!” Keith threw his arms up in the air as he said it. “He ripped my card for you!” Keith added as an afterthought.

Mrs Barrett blinked a few times at Keith. “Right.” She sighed, “Keith, you shouldn’t have fought Liam. Fighting should be a last resort not a first one, so what I’m going to do is send you home with your dad. And if there’s any more trouble you get someone else. Don’t fight needless battles yourself.”

Keith didn’t understand any of the words Mrs Barret said, it sounded like one of those weird quotes that his dad had on his phone. Like, “creativity is intelligence having fun” what did that even mean?

When they got home Keith waited to get in trouble. His dad just smiled at him, and then they did a puzzle together.

What Keith didn’t know was that Scott Kogane knew deep, deep down in his heart this wouldn’t be his last fight, not even close. He knew deep, deep down that Keith would probably be fighting until the moment he died.

Others wouldn’t let Keith forget his fights this easily. So he deserved to just be a child while he could still be a child.

* * *

He went back into the building. They told him not to. He did. Keith was alone now, really, truly alone for the first time in his short, short life. Keith realised that his father died because he’d never stop fighting for other people.

If fighting for others left Keith alone then he wasn’t going to fight for anyone but himself.

* * *

He sat again. In front of the lady in charge Mrs Baker. As his nose refused to stop bleeding and his eye was starting to swell up. Arms crossed. Except this time his dad wasn’t going to defuse the situation or do a puzzle with him.

It was another home kid, it was always boys. Was something Keith had noticed, he’d never felt the need to psychically fight a girl, so that had to count for something.

Keith focused on some of the drawings that the other kids had done in front of him. Hanging on the wall as he glared at them because that was easier than doing anything else as Mrs Baker sighed.

Again.

Third time in two weeks. He could hear it in Mrs Baker’s sigh and the way she pinched the bridge of her nose. It was the way this would probably have to go on some record because the other kid broke his arm and was currently at the hospital.

“You’ve had three chances Keith.”

“I know.”

“Your social worker and I believe you need a stable environment. Not like this.”

Keith didn’t respond. Just pressing his lips together to form a sharp line and he gave a half shrug. Like he didn’t really care when in reality every cell in his body was screaming to leave this place.

He didn’t like what the older kids were saying about him. He didn’t like it a tiny bit at all. So he had to leave as soon as he could.

Mrs Baker gave him a small, nearly sad smile. “I’m not sure what the older kids said to you Keith but if you tell me I can do something. You’re a good kid. I’ve seen this plan in kids before. Why are you trying to get away?”

Keith shrugged and Mrs Baker sighed. A truly sad expression on her face now, her eyes dull as she forced herself to smile at Keith, a tragically sad smile which Keith wouldn’t forget as long as he lived.

“I’m sorry Keith.”

She was. That’s why it stayed with Keith. Someone actually caring about his well-being since his father died. Maybe in another universe Keith told her, and maybe in another time he stayed here and got adopted by the perfect family.

This was Keith’s universe though, the messy, unfiltered, raw and upsetting universe. He didn’t get a happy ending.

* * *

Stable. _The only thing stable here is how often I get punched._ Keith reminded himself bitterly as he hit the ground. Smiling at his joke, which while not very funny made him feel a bit better about the situation.

“You worthless piece of a child.”

_Yeah fair._

“I don’t know why we took you in!”

_Me neither buddy._

Then he got kicked in the stomach and Keith groaned as he rolled over. Where was his eighth birthday party? Wasn’t it his birthday, October twenty-third. No, instead he got beat up and then thrown in his bedroom.

Keep fighting dipshit. Reminded the ever so kind and helpful voice in his head. Hurt him bad enough and you get sent away. Which he hadn’t considered and almost nodded to himself as he managed to stand up.

He must’ve been a sight to Phillip Jeffery, his ever-loving foster-father. With blood dripping from the side of his mouth from where he bit his lip too hard. Or the cuts on his forehead, or even the bruises or the way he didn’t put his weight on one foot because it hurt.

Keith smiled, and he knew that blood was on his teeth. He hoped he looked like he’d been dragged out of hell by his ear because that is how he felt.

Then he striked.

Lunging forward and knocking his foster-father over. Listening to the thumps as he rolled down the stairs. Keith sighed, holding his side. Looking down the stairs. Phillip’s leg wasn’t supposed to bend that way.

So he called the ambulance. “I pushed my foster-father down the stairs and I think his leg is broken.”

“Why did you push him down the stairs?”

“He hit me.”

“Oh.”

That ended that quickly and they got an ambulance out, before taking one look at the eight-year-old boy who threw a grown man down the stairs. Seeing the fight and almost animalistic nature behind them, bloody and bruised and they shuffled him into the ambulance before Phillip.

* * *

“Why do you keep fighting?” A girl asks him, leaning in too close as Keith leans away very tactfully.

“What?”

“You keep fighting, arguing with people. Doing everything you can to keep yourself from being vulnerable.”

Keith shrugged. He tried to explain it to his last foster-mother, just before she got too stressed with him and sent him back. He can explain it in words that he understands, but suddenly say them outside and they don’t understand.

It’s like the ocean. It’s just there, in and out, a force that can’t be controlled and it’s so ingrained in him that he can’t get rid of it even if he tried. Like how the ocean drowns anyone who tries to get too deep Keith fights the people who try to get too close.

Being close to him makes him vulnerable.

He’s sick of being vulnerable.

He had friends at his last school and he loved being around them, he let himself enjoy his existence and it was ripped away from him. He liked Mary, his last foster-parent, she was kind. Apparently she hadn’t been told of his “record” and six months into the fostering read his record and shipped him off.

She didn’t even notice that Keith had been the perfect child since he got to Mary’s house.

Like the ocean, if someone tries to fight a wave the ocean will fight back. But if no one tries to interrupt the flow of the wave it’ll be a calm day on the water.

* * *

One family is nice. The other locks him in a cupboard when he speaks or acts out. Even when they have guests over. Keith slams his fists on the cupboard door trying to get someone’s attention.

Trying to get someone to save him, stop him from being locked in this eternal darkness that was so big and so small. He learnt what being trapped is like.

Tears. It’s tears and his chest seizing up so much that he couldn’t breathe and sometimes thought he’d die in there. His lungs giving out on him because it was so small and so dark and he’d run out of air in there.

He never gave up fighting. Even when his fists were bleeding from slamming the door and his voice was gone from yelling and his vocal chords wouldn’t dare make a sound he kept fighting.

It didn’t do anything.

No one was going to save him.

* * *

Before Keith is ten he realises they’ve given up on trying to give him stability. They give it to the children who aren’t “problem children” they give stability to the younger ones, the ones who will be grateful for it.

Sometimes, when Keith is curled up in a bed he just wishes he can stop fighting. Just exist and not have to be scared of it all being taken away from him.

He’s still a child, no matter what everyone else tries to say and sometimes, just sometimes. Children want to be held, and love unconditionally and laugh so hard they can’t breathe. But Keith doesn’t get that.

Bruised knuckles instead of hugs. Black eyes instead of family dinners. Sharp biting insults and retorts instead of words of reaffirmation.

People become better when they get unconditional love and support, how are they supposed to hold his behaviour against him if no one tries to give him any of that? He hasn’t been hugged in what must be years.

So if Keith runs he knows no one will miss him. He knows he can make it on his own because he’s basically been doing it already.

Between what’s supposed to be a stable environment even though everyone who has ever interacted with Keith knows he attracts people like him. Unstable. Aggressive.

He’s in between maybes, and for once he just wants to know something about where he’s going and be in control of himself.

Late at night he left.

The only one who wants him is himself. Even then.

No one wants him.

Keith doesn’t blame them most nights.

* * *

Keith got good at several things over the first two months.

Standing his ground, pick-pocketing and fighting.

After too many bruises and too many close calls something in Keith snapped. Suddenly the calls weren’t so close and the bruises didn’t litter his body as much.

He got good at learning on his own terms. Learning how to do long division with only a library textbook which he stole, while sitting on a park bench almost looking like a normal child.

Streetsmarts. Who to avoid, who to befriend. At first Keith had no idea how to judge a person by how they spoke, walked, acted, and that led to the close calls and the bruises and cuts and general pain of existence.

Now he can look at a person and decide if they’re worth pick-pocketing. Or if they’re the sort of person who would send him back.

* * *

That still doesn’t mean Keith doesn’t get into sticky situations. He’s eleven now. A year since he ran and currently the police think they’re onto him. So Keith is hiding next to a dumpster. Trying to read his book as sirens screech around him.

He’s not currently fighting. That has to count for something.

Yet.

There are footsteps and someone is muttering something under their breath and Keith slowly puts his book down, glancing up.

“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,” the man was muttering to himself. “I am a stupid… now I’m in a weird alley of course I am.”

Keith jumped out, holding the knife that had protected him many times. Gripping it tightly. With the weird symbol, Keith would trade almost anything he owned. Apart from this and the gloves that were too big for him.

Anything else was fine. Not the blade or the gloves.

The man sighed, like this was an everyday occurrence. “Look, dude, I kinda screwed things up with someone and I need to apologise so if you didn’t stab me—” He actually looked at Keith and Keith looked back.

He was tall. With black hair. Maybe of Asian descent? With a slightly amused face which at the same time managed to be concerned and worried. Pity. There’s pity and that makes Keith want to run his dagger through this man’s stomach.

“Oh. Okay,” the man said, looking at Keith before his eyes darted down to the dagger. “That’s a cool knife.”

Keith just glared.

“Okay. Okay. That’s reasonable. It is a cool knife. Look, buddy, can you please stab me another day.”

“Who are you working for?” Keith managed, his hand shaking as he tried to stop it from shaking. He sounded too young, too scared. He didn’t want to get sent back.

His “homes” had left their scars. Visible and not. Keith didn’t want any more scars. “Tell me!” Keith yelled.

“I’m a pilot,” he said, hands up in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not going to tell anyone you’re here if you don’t want me to.”

Keith gave a nod, before going to put his knife down before the man lunged forward. Knocking the knife out of Keith’s hand and it hit the ground with a clatter. With a glare Keith kicked the man in the shins.

In return the man flipped him over and Keith landed on his back. It didn’t hurt as such.

More snapped something inside of him, like a flashing sign in his mind that this wasn’t safe and Keith was fighting now. He made a noise and was on his feet quickly. Fists in something that could barely be called a stance.

“I’m not afraid of you!” Keith yelled, because he was terrified, not just afraid.

“I’m Takashi Shirogane.” The man said, “Who are you?”

“Keith…”

“Keith?”

“Keith Kogane.” Keith murmured before glancing down at his dagger.

“Call me Shiro,” the man said, also looking at the dagger. “Aren’t you the kid who has been missing?”

Keith didn’t respond. Just glancing around for something to help him. He was trapped in the alleyway. Shiro was blocking his only exit.

Shiro picked up the knife. Looking at it carefully.

“That’s mine!”

“It’ll be yours if you meet me here tomorrow.”

Nothing ever good started like that. Keith realised with a small gulp as he looked at Shiro’s back.

* * *

For some reason Keith came back. This time he sat on the dumpster which he’d closed.

“Why are you on a dumpster?”

“Why aren’t you?” Keith responded. Closing his book. “Give me my knife.”

“I have to feed you at least.”

“Huh?”

Shiro looked at him, “First of all, I’ve seen skeletons with more meat on them. Second, if I’m dragging you out here I should get you food at least.”

“You’ve told them.” Keith said blankly, before groaning and hitting himself in the forehead.

“You’re a kid out in the cold.”

“And you’re the reason I can’t have nice things!” Keith yelled, before throwing his book at Shiro which hit him in the nose. “I’m not going back!” He was standing on the dumpster now, which was very high up. “I am sick of it! I’d rather be on the street.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows.

“No one wants me and I don’t want them either!” Keith yelled.

Then he proceeded to fall off of the dumpster and smack his head on the ground.

* * *

That was how he met Shiro. The first time he tried to fight him and got his ass kicked. The second time he met him he fell off a dumpster and smacked his head on the ground and started bleeding.

* * *

Three months later Keith was in the Shirogane house, Yua Shirogane and Eiji Shirogane and well… Shiro. Keith was sitting. His legs crossed on the couch as his social worker, Allie, who had basically given up on him was speaking.

“He’s a difficult child, but I’m sure you’re up to the challenge,” Allie said with a smile that was about as fake as her face. “If that’s all, Keith are you alright here?”

“Fine.”

“I’ll be off then, call me if you need anything Keith, you too Yua.” Then she left.

It was Yua, Eiji, Shiro and him.

Yua was a kind looking woman, who still had a slight Japanese accent and couldn’t say some words quite right. She had laughter lines, a happy face and was currently looking at Keith with concern in her eyes.

Eiji Shirogane just looked like another copy of Shiro, a bit older, a bit shorter but just a little bit scary and intimidating. He also looks concerned and Keith would rather stab himself in the stomach then hear them try and reach out to him.

“There’s a room for you upstairs,” Yua said softly, “Just tell us if something isn’t right and we’ll change it. Takashi will you go with him?”

Shiro nodded and got up from his spot on the couch. “C’mon kiddo,” he started up the stairs and Keith followed after him. Upstairs had a small hallway and four doors leading off of that hallway.

“So the furthest one is Mom and Dad’s room, then the one to your left is the bathroom, we have one downstairs too. My room is this one,” he tapped on a door, “Technically I don’t really live here but I’m here all the time.”

“This is yours,” Shiro opened the door and stepped aside to let Keith in first. The first thing Keith checked was that the door couldn’t be locked, which it couldn’t and he sighed in relief before stepping inside.

His room was… his. It had white walls like the rest of the house, and the carpet that was somehow both incredibly clean and the dirtiest thing Keith had ever seen in some spots. But his walls were covered in posters.

Space posters. With constellations and pictures of the moon and other sciencey nerdy posters. Isaac Newton with a speech bubble telling a terrible joke, Keith couldn’t help but smile at the joke, no matter how bad it was.

The bed had a blue blanket on it, which was covered with stars and moons as Keith stared at it before moving onto the desk. It was a plain white desk but it had pens and above the wall where there was a chalkboard which said.

Welcome home Keith!

And it took all of Keith’s self-control to not start crying right then and there. Instead he turned to Shiro, the person who convinced his parents that Keith deserved this home and hugged him tightly.

“You’re safe now kiddo.”

Keith actually believed it. Which was dangerous, but welcome.

* * *

The next fight Keith gets into is barely a physical fight. It’s a fight between himself.

He’s been having nightmares, which aren’t new. Not in the slightest, but what is new is having people that actually care about these nightmares.

The one he had that night went like this.

It was Phillip, again, most of his nightmares involve him in some way. But this time it was less of a dream and more of a memory. Phillip just beating him up, Keith felt the pain in every single part of his body.

“Stop.” Keith managed, not strongly but at least a little. “Stop it!” He repeated as dream-Phillip kicked him in the ribs and Keith cried out in pain.

Then dream-Phillip grabbed Keith by the hair. “No one will come help you now boy.”

“Keith! Keith! Wake up buddy!”

He jerked up, sitting upright. There was someone over his bed and Keith didn’t even hesitate to throw his fist into their jaw. Jumping out of bed he met the closed door of his room and scrambled to open it.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Keith flinched so hard that he hit his head on the door. “Don’t touch me!” Keith managed, before swinging another fist which got his attacker in the face.

“Keith. It’s just me.” Shiro. It was Shiro.

He hit Shiro. Keith stared with wide eyes, stumbling back even though his door was closed.

“It’s okay buddy.”

He hit Shiro.

“I’m sorry,” Keith managed. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’ve been hit worse, it’s okay Keith.”

Keith just stared at Shiro, as he stumbled back a little more. Against the door this time. Staring at Shiro. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Shiro said, before holding out his arms and Keith ran into the hug.

* * *

He was sitting on the couch as Shiro paced in front of him. His nose had stopped bleeding and he didn’t even get a black-eye for once which was always a good sign. He sniffed and Shiro turned around to make sure Keith wasn’t crying.

“Look. Keith.”

“Look Shiro.”

“Are you mocking me?” Shiro asked, “Like right now?”

Keith nodded and Shiro sighed, exactly how a parent would sigh. Like they’ve given up on trying to keep their child in place.

Eiji and Yua did that sigh a lot. At the pair of them too, when Shiro and Keith argued over things that didn’t really matter and when Keith would refuse to eat broccoli because, “it looks weird.”

Shiro had responded. “So do you but we still love you.”

“Aren’t you nineteen Takashi? Shut up.” Keith had responded just as harshly.

But right now Shiro was parenting him, because Yua and Eiji were at work and Shiro was the next person the school had called.

Shiro inhaled, sharply, before spinning around to look at Keith. “You know better.”

“Do I?”

“You do.” He said firmly. “But. Mom and Dad always said to hear you out, so. I am hearing you out right now.”

“Is it weird to like boys?” Keith asked, looking down at his feet.

“I am not equipped for this conversation,” Shiro muttered before sitting down next to Keith. “No, it’s not weird to like boys.”

“Well that’s what this boy was saying.”

“Oh.” Was what Shiro said, and at moments like this Keith wondered how he was a widely respected pilot when he pulled out stuff like this. “Oh! Okay.”

Keith rolled his eyes.

“Keith. It’s not weird to like boys, it’s not weird to like girls and it’s not weird to like both or neither. You’re weird, but that’s because you like gummy worms on pizza and because you can’t say squirrel correctly. You’re not weird for who you do or don’t have a crush on.”

“Anyway, punching someone won’t help.”

“Makes me feel better.” Keith managed and Shiro laughed loudly at that.

“Can I tell you a secret, Mom and Dad don’t know yet.” Shiro asked after he finished cackling like one of the witches from that TV show that they were watching at the time. “I think I have a boyfriend.”

Keith’s eyes might as well have popped out of his head because that is what it felt like. “Wait you like boys!”

“Yup.”

“I like boys!”

“Must be genetic.”

* * *

“You don’t have to fight alone anymore.” Yua had said. “You have us in your corner.”

Eiji had nodded next to her and Keith had smiled, a real smile which hurt his cheeks.

 _Finally._ His mind supplied him.

* * *

Shiro was pacing. Up and down the hallway like a tiger unsure of what to do. Keith was sitting on the couch, legs stretched out on the couch.

“Calm down Shiro, it’s just Adam. He’s the one who’s supposed to be worried.”

“But your opinion matters to me,” Shiro managed, before starting to chew on the sleeve of his shirt. A habit that Mrs and Mr Shirogane hated, while Keith thought it was funny. “What if you hate him?”

“Shiro. You found me in a dumpster.”

“Okay?”

“You can’t get much worse than me, and Eiji and Yua love me. They’re going to love Adam.” Keith said easily, “Also. Why is this the first time I’m meeting him? I am your brother, it’s my job to bully Adam first.”

Someone knocked on the door.

Keith shot up out of the couch and bolted down the hallway. Flinging the door open to see a confused man standing there. Who Keith assumed was Adam, with tanned skin and large glasses that didn’t quite appear to fit his face.

With a grin Keith leant against the door frame. “I’m Keith.”

“Adam.”

“So, break his heart and I break your ribs.” Keith said with a smile. “I am not afraid to take you on.”

“Keith!” That was Shiro, “Stop pestering my boyfriend!”

Adam blinked. “Boyfriend?” His voice was teasing. “So that’s what we are?”

Keith looked between Shiro and Adam who were both looking at each other. Having a conversation with their eyes, like what Yua and Eiji did. “Yeah.” Shiro said, his voice strong. “That’s what we are.”

“Ew.” Keith said, “Y’all are gross.”

“You say y’all?” Adam looked at Keith, and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m from Texas, I’m allowed to,” Keith crossed his arms and looked back at Adam. “Also, as a child who Shiro found in a dumpster I will put you in a dumpster.”

“Keith!” Shiro again, not doing a lot to help the situation. But he was trying.

“As someone who knows a lot about idiots,” Adam glanced at Shiro before looking at Keith. “I can say you are one.”

Keith just smiled at Adam. “As someone who knows Shiro, I’d say he’s in love.”

“W—what?” Shiro said, his face turning bright red as Adam laughed softly. “No come back here you little shit!”

But Keith was already halfway down the hallway and Shiro was cursing under his breath.

* * *

Eiji and Yua Shirogane died in a car crash.

Keith stood in front of their graves. Tears rolling down his cheeks as Shiro and Adam held him, one either side of him. Just as upset, but trying to keep it together for Keith who was falling apart.

What came next? Was the question no one wanted to ask.

Shiro and Adam basically lived at the Garrison now, their only break was going to the Shirogane family home. They couldn’t afford to buy a house, not when the Garrison provided everything they needed.

Still, it’s not the priority now. As Keith was crying so hard he could barely breathe and Adam and Shiro were trying to stop Keith from falling apart in front of them.

“It’s okay buddy. We’ll be okay,” Shiro whispered, despite the tears rolling down his face. “We’ll make it through this.”

Keith cried harder.

* * *

“Ah yeah is that what Mommy and Daddy told you before—”

Keith punched. James yelped and then Keith proceeded to get into trouble.

Sitting Keith’s hands were balled up and resting on his thighs as Shiro walked.

“Hey.”

“Look I know I messed up, you should just send me back to the home already.” Keith looked forward and not at Shiro because that was easier. “This place isn’t for me.”

“Keith. You can do this. I will never give up on you, but more importantly. You can’t give up on yourself.” Keith looked up at Shiro, eyes wide with what Shiro would call hope.

“You belong here Keith. You outflew me, the trained pilot.”

Keith smiled, shaking his head a little. Not too long ago Shiro had brought Keith here because it was the school holidays and Shiro had work. He’d said to go into a flight simulator and muck around.

That mucking around gave him a score higher than Shiro’s.

He was enrolled not long after that.

* * *

The Garrison. Where Keith lived now. With Shiro and Adam, not with them. But around them. Around them enough that Keith felt like he could burst into where Shiro and Adam lived.

“Hey Shiro— holy shit!” Is what Keith cried before closing the door and deciding he needed therapy.

Someone screeched and someone else hit the ground, he was willing to bet that Adam yelled and Shiro fell.

Right now Keith would like the ground to swallow him up.

“I’m good now,” that’s Shiro’s voice.

Keith opened the door slowly, before seeing that they were good and Keith wouldn’t need extra therapy before stepping inside. Refusing to meet their eyes.

“You need to knock.”

“You have classes in ten minutes!” Keith yelled, “I thought you’d be mentally preparing or something.”

“Oh we were,” Adam said casually and Keith clamped his hands over his ears.

“You owe me so much therapy.” Keith crossed his arms before cringing and shaking his head. He shuddered again and Adam just laughed from his place on the couch. “I already needed therapy but this is a new high.”

“Is it a bad time to talk about the bees and the bees?” Adam asked and Shiro threw one of the cushions on the couch at him and Adam laughed as it hit him in the face. “You see Keith—”

“Nope!” Keith yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. “Not after being severely traumatised.”

“You’re already severely traumatised,” Adam said bluntly and Shiro sighed. Clearly sick of the two people he cared about the most. Keith laughed though.

“So why did you actually want to speak to Shiro?” Adam asked, looking at Keith then glancing at Shiro, a knowing look on his face. “Would it happen to relate to whoever I’m sure you just kissed.”

“No?” Keith lied, and Adam just laughed. Seeing through Keith straight away. It was a side-effect of knowing Keith since he was about eleven, now at the age of fourteen and a local menace. Both Adam and Shiro could tell when he was lying and when he was trying to avoid a topic.

Shiro gasped. “You kissed him? What’s his name… Keegan, Kyle. Keegan, it’s Keegan right?”

Keith nodded.

“Hell yeah!” Shiro said and Keith rolled his eyes, but he smiled too.

* * *

Shiro and Adam were fighting. Adam didn’t want Shiro to go to Kerberos. Shiro wanted to go. Adam was getting mad. Shiro was also getting mad.

Neither of them were speaking to the other.

“Don’t expect me to be here when you get back,” Is what Adam had told Shiro when they both thought that Keith wasn’t around.

* * *

Shiro didn’t come back. So that solved that problem. At the funeral Adam hugged him tightly.

Now he was in the care of the Garrison. Not Adam. Shiro had left a will, but it was written so long ago that whoever looked after Keith wasn’t even mentioned. It was before Yua and Eiji died.

Adam told him, looking solemn. “If you fuck this up. You’re going back into care. I can’t be your legal guardian.”

He could. He could if he had to.

But Keith knew he was too similar to Shiro at times and it would break Adam in half to see the similarities. Also, because if Adam went into space he couldn’t promise he would come back and that would break Keith even more.

“I care about you.” Adam said, “I just— can’t. I can die too easily and I can’t leave you like that.”

“I know.” Keith managed, wiping his tears. “I know.” He nodded again. “I won’t fuck this up.”

* * *

He proceeded to fuck this up.

Throwing a knife at Iverson wasn’t his brightest idea. In fact it was probably the worst idea he ever had.

Now Iverson couldn’t use one of his eyes and they had kicked Keith out. Which made sense, and he was surprised how much shit he got away with between Shiro dying and this moment.

Adam looked at him, it should’ve been Shiro here. “You can stay with me,” Adam managed. “I’m not letting you go back into care.”

So he’d been lying before.

Keith just looked at Adam. “I’m leaving.” He said, shoving his knife and gloves into his bag. “Before the social worker comes to get me. They won’t let you have me, you technically don’t have a residence.”

“He didn’t.” He, meaning Shiro. Adam didn’t say his name anymore and Keith avoided it as much as he could.

“He adopted me. You need a house to foster me. You can’t just adopt me.” Keith zipped his bag closed and grabbed his jacket off of the rack. “You don’t even want to adopt me. You just want me to be safe.”

“You’re not safe if you’re leaving.” Adam crossed his arms. Standing in the doorway refusing to move. “Where will you go Keith? I can find a way to keep you here.”

“I’ve been kicked out.” Keith responded sharply, “You can’t stop this, the only person who maybe could is dead.” He snapped and felt bad when Adam’s face flashed with sadness. “I know where I’m going. I know what I’m doing. Let me past.”

“Shiro wouldn’t want you doing this.”

“I didn’t want him going to space either,” Keith glanced over Adam’s shoulder. “If he didn’t respect my opinion while he was alive, I’m not going to respect his while he’s dead. Now let me past Adam.”

“Keith. We can figure this out.” He said, in his parenting voice that he used on other students and Keith. “We can. You don’t have to leave.”

But Keith wanted to. Every cell in his being was screaming to leave, before he got too close to Adam and that got fucked up too. Pushing away first so Keith wouldn’t have to be pushed later.

Adam couldn’t force him to stay, he couldn’t force Shiro to stay. He couldn’t force the Shirogane-Kogane brothers to do anything. He knew that. Keith knew that.

“I’m going to where I was born,” Keith said quietly, “If you need to find me you can find that out. It’s out there. Now Adam, please, let me go.”

Adam stepped to the side. Letting Keith past essentially, finally, letting go. “Please be safe Keith, he’ll haunt us otherwise.”

Keith laughed before pulling Adam into a hug.

Then he left and Adam didn’t say where he went. That was all he could’ve asked of Adam.

* * *

The year he spent alone was somehow the best and the worst.

He had no one to answer to.

He also had no one.

That somehow was relieving and terrifying, both feelings intertwined with Keith and the feeling of being scared would probably never leave him.

He fought to stay here, quietly, learning how to cook and clean and garden and all the adult things that Shiro and Adam were supposed to be teaching him.

Then Shiro was alive and Keith was on his hoverbike going to get him before he could even convince himself that it was a terrible idea.

That was the start.


	2. Fighting For Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mother loved to tell this story, apparently new-born Lance had heard her crying and held onto her. Seemingly trying to comfort her because he started crying too, just softly, not wailing. Just holding onto his loving mother, as his father watched them. Smiling.
> 
> He was born defending the ones he loved. From the outside world and from the scary things he may never understand. 
> 
> If only anyone in that room had known what the universe had lined up for Lance McClain. Maybe then they would’ve cried a lot harder than they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance's chapter! Let's goooooooo, just fyi, I love Lance and Keith so much as characters. So writing their backstories for this series is amazing.

Lance was born quietly. A quiet cry after an immense amount of pain. As his mother cried from the relief and joy out of it all. A new child, this small being that she’d get to see get bigger and bigger.

His mother loved to tell this story, apparently new-born Lance had heard her crying and held onto her. Seemingly trying to comfort her because he started crying too, just softly, not wailing. Just holding onto his loving mother, as his father watched them. Smiling.

He was born defending the ones he loved. From the outside world and from the scary things he may never understand. 

If only anyone in that room had known what the universe had lined up for Lance McClain. Maybe then they would’ve cried a lot harder than they did.

* * *

When Lance was little. Too little to know what he was doing he stood in front of the vacuum as the family dog, Mika, shook and quivered at the sound of the vacuum. He’d only just learnt how to walk and couldn’t say words yet.

Maria McClain, watched her son for a moment, before telling her husband to turn off the vacuum and let the dog go outside.

At her core Maria knew many things about Lance, before her boy had even gotten the chance to think about growing big. He’d care. He’d love with all his heart and he’d care with everything he had and more.

She knew that Lance was going to be a huge softie, she knew that Lance was going to be the kind who stood up for others, but when it came to himself he wouldn’t care a tiny bit about what he went through.

“Te amo hijo,” Maria McClain had whispered to Lance while his siblings were playing outside, loudly and yelling at each other. “You’ll be the best of us,” she added in English before setting Lance down.

Who went to comfort the dog.

Maria knew that the world was cruel to nice people, and she’d pray to any Gods it took for the world to be nice to her darling little son.

* * *

Maria McClain watched as her boy toddled around, saying almost words to people. Which made sense on their own but put them together and they were just a jumble of letters which mixed Spanish and English in the most horrific blend.

“Veronica! Don’t push Luis!” Maria yelled, letting her eyes drift to her other children for a second.

Lance toddled up to her, his face happy and bright and what wouldn’t Maria do to make sure that his face wouldn’t always be this happy. “Mama!” He clapped his hands together before putting his arms up and Maria scooped him up. “Mama!” He said excitedly like he’d never been held by her before.

“Hello.” Maria said, settling Lance on her hip. “Veronica, Luis, if you don’t stop fighting this minute you won’t get any garlic knots from Abuelita.” They stopped straight away and Lance started babbling.

Her husband, John, wrapped an arm around her waist and looked at his child. The youngest son as he babbled nonsense. “He talks almost as much as his mother.”

“Be quiet, you,” Maria said and John laughed. Pressing a kiss to her temple before darting off as Maria spat curses behind him as John cackled even harder.

“You have a loving family  mi hijo, remember that we love you. Especially when you don’t love yourself and especially when you do. We love you nene.”

“Abaja!” Lance said and Maria nodded seriously like her boy had said something as serious as a promise, when really calling it anything apart from a child being strange was polite at best.

“I understand mi hijo. It is annoying when that happens.”

Lance nodded before yawning and resting his head against Maria’s shoulder who laughed softly. “Mi alma? Lleva a nuestro hijo?” She asked and John took their boy in his arms like she asked him to.

* * *

When Lance was five he stood in front of his sister as a dog growled at him. He had tried to pet it and the dog had growled and Veronica had started crying and Lance had stepped in front of the weird dog and glared at it as him and Veronica walked backwards.

He still remembers the smell. It was salt and the sand from the nearby and the way the sun beamed down on the pair of them as Lance was shaking. “Okay Mister Doggo. Can you please move? We’re trying to go.”

The dog growled in response and Lance walked backwards. Listening to Veronica as she cried behind him. “Lance! Be careful!” Veronica cried and Lance was being careful. He wasn’t any sort of idiot, he knew he couldn’t just jump into action.

“Dear, Mister Doggo. Please let us go because my sister is scared and I’m scared too,” he looked at the dog and the dog seemed to stop growling and looked at Lance for a moment. Head tilted. “Okay, Veronica. We’re gonna run.”

“Okay,” Veronica managed.

“Three, two, one!” Lance yelled before bolting down the street and when he didn't see any dog footsteps bounding behind him he assumed he was safe and spun around, he was right. Veronica had stopped too and she sighed out in relief.

They started off home, feet dragging against the road as they darted out of the way of any car that came past. Which while a rare occurrence was still an occurrence. 

The McClain house wasn’t small by any means. It was out in the country, an American style house. With blue panelling and a nice looking stone path that led up to the house, it was a big house too. Giving all five children bedrooms for themselves and then an even bigger one for their parents.

Veronica ran up to the door. “Lance saved me from a dog!” She yelled and the chaos broke out immediately. There was various yelling and people confirming or denying the claims.

“Silence!” Mama yelled and all of them had shut up straight away as Lance walked into the living room. “Lance, is this true?”

Lance smiled. “I just asked the dog to leave us alone.”

There were gasps as his family proceeded to lose their minds. Mama walked up to Lance and scooped him up like he was a baby and not five-years-old. Everyone knew that Maria McClain had a soft spot for her youngest son. Even Lance knew that.

“Is that right chiquito?” She asked, starting to tickle Lance who roared with laughter as he threw his head back and tried to wiggle out of his mother’s arms. Eventually Lance managed and he hit the floor with a thump, which his family proceeded to laugh at. Lance was laughing too.

* * *

Lance was sitting on top of the monkey bars. Proving that those gymnastics classes were paying off when he hung upside down easily as he started to speak. “Then, the dog growled and Veronica and I sprinted!”

“Is that right?” Papa said, looking amused. “How’s gymnastics?”

“Good!” Lance laughed, “Now I can do this!” He proceeded to flip off the monkey bars and didn’t even smack his head on the ground. He landed and held his hands out as his Papa clapped enthusiastically. 

“Lancelot, how would you feel about moving to America?”

“America?” Lance said slowly, “Which one’s that?”

Papa laughed, “It’s the big one, that Tio Harry and Tia Mary always visit and they come back with the weird food you hate but everyone else loves.”

“That one!” Lance said before smiling. “I’d like to move there. It’ll be nice.”

His Papa smiled, ruffling his hair as Lance decided to run off down the pathway, he didn’t get a lot of alone time with his father, so when he did it was extra special. Maybe if Lance had turned around he’d see the worried look in his father's eyes.

* * *

The beach was Lance’s place. It was the only way he could describe it. Sitting on the sand, of a string of beach that the tourists didn’t get to, because the only safe way was through their property.

Waves lapped against the shore softly, not like the huge waves that would sometimes hit the shore and then all of the surfers would come out. It was just Lance, sitting as the waves lapped gently, like a song more than a chant.

Wind made the trees and various greenery brush against each other, creating a rustling that was almost louder than the waves and threatened to swallow every other sound up. Which it didn’t somehow, and the waves were as loud as ever.

With a content sigh Lance buried his toes into the sand, letting himself feel the sand around him which moulded with and around his body. They’d almost moved a while ago, to America because Papa had gotten a promising job opportunity there. 

But Papa had gone, taking Marco, the oldest McClain child, at the age of almost eighteen with him for a better chance at university education. The house was still loud, with echoing yells and loud laughter.

It was quieter now. Not a bad quiet as such. Just different.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Lance looked up to look at his sister. Who had a soft smile on her face as she looked around. She sat down next to Lance, looking up at the sky. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Lance replied. Before watching the ocean move in and out, stuttering and pausing and being somehow both the most imperfect and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “What’s up?”

“I have a girlfriend.” Veronica said shortly, staring straight ahead. (Despite how there was nothing straight about the situation.) “And, uh, I wanna tell Mama.”

“Oh.” Lance buried his hands into the sand. “A girlfriend huh?”

“Don’t say it like you’ve never kissed anyone,” Veronica glared, and Lance shrugged in agreement. “Let’s go through the people I  _ know  _ you’ve kissed Lance Charles McClain.”

Lance removed his hands from the sand and covered his face with them, shaking his head slightly as he could practically feel Veronica grinning like a maniac next to him. “Veronica, shut up.”

Veronica, did not shut up. “Isabella Fredrick, Isabella Fernández, Katie Abril, Paula Copas, Olivia Gardener, two tourist girls I forgot the names of and I’m only theorising but I’m almost sure that you kissed Ryan De Toro once.”

“It was a dare!” Lance squeaked and Veronica just raised her eyebrows at him. “It was. Mama didn’t raise a coward.”

“No, she raised two,” Veronica said and Lance laughed loudly at that. “Okay, well you’ve wanted to kiss Ryan De Toro more than once.”

“Shut up!” Lance said, shoving Veronica and hoping that he wasn’t turning bright red. Veronica cackled like a mad witch as she hit the sand before laughing even harder, if that somehow was possible.

Veronica grinned and the two fell into an easy silence, watching the waves and smelling the salt and sand and even the wind. They stayed like that for a long time, just watching and waiting for nothing.

“Lance.” Lance gave Veronica a lazy glance, like he was only half committing to it. “Just know, no matter what bullshit you pull. No matter how many questionable people you kiss and no matter how many times you get your face beaten into the ground. We still love you.”

“I know,” Lance mumbled. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be reminded.” Veronica said softly and Lance couldn’t agree more.

* * *

When Takashi Shirogane came to Lance’s school Lance was about to faint. His friend, Ryan also looked like he was about to just pass out on the spot and never get up. Because, holy shit. 

Takashi Shirogane was standing in his too small classroom and looking quite awkward. Lance was staring. He was  _ staring.  _ Like a lot, a lot that even Ryan noticed and poked him in the arm.

“Man, stop staring that much!” Ryan snapped, and Lance nodded. He didn’t listen at all and proceeded to stare a little bit more because this was probably the only time Lance would ever get to look at Shiro in real life.

His teacher also looked a bit dazed, which was fair. “So, today we have Captain Shirogane, here to talk about The Galaxy Garrison. Uh… yeah, take it away Captain Shirogane.”

He gave an awkward smile, before his eyes scanned over everyone in their seats. Looking a bit dazed and confused. “So, I’m Shiro. You can call me… well, Shiro. And like your teacher said, I’m here to talk about The Galaxy Garrison.”

Lance raised his hand.

The teacher sighed.

“Uh. Yes?” Shiro said, looking at Lance. 

“Why are you in  _ Cuba _ ?” Lance asked and Shiro looked very panicked very quickly. 

“Uh…” Shiro started and Lance couldn’t help but wonder, how a man, who was so well renowned so awkward at every possible opportunity. 

“Lance that’s enough,” his teacher snapped and Lance wanted to point out that he’d only said one thing, but he closed his mouth to avoid getting in trouble again.

“So what do you know about The Garrison?” Shiro asked and no one responded because no one knew anything. “Right, yeah, okay. So one day humans will explore space, and we’ll need people trained so that they can explore that space. That’s what The Garrison does.”

Kids raised their hands and Shiro asked their questions kindly, not snapping no matter how dumb the questions were. “How old are you?” Or something like, “Will you marry me?” He answered them all.

Lance raised his hand and he could feel his teacher sigh behind him, even if he hadn’t heard it, he knew it had happened. It was something he just knew, like how to make people laugh. It really was just something that Lance knew.

Shiro looked at him, waiting for his question.

“What’s the pay like?” Lance asked.

“Lance McClain! You can’t ask people how much they get paid,” his teacher snapped. “It’s rude.”

“Mrs Hardy, it’s fine,” Shiro said looking at Lance. “The pay’s good. I get to live at The Garrison and they pay for my food and give me somewhere to live. The pay’s good. But if that’s the only reason you want to become a pilot I’d rethink your approach. You can make more money for less work by becoming a lawyer or even a doctor.”

Lance nodded.

“Also, you can find the wages of every person at The Garrison online. They’re government jobs, it’s the law,” Shiro added with a small smile at Lance. “Anyone else?”

He went through more and more questions and Lance had completely zoned out. Just itching to get a computer so he could really find out how much being a pilot paid.

“If that’s all, I encourage you all to have a go on the flight simulator. It’s a smaller one we used years ago, just put on the headset.”

“Like a video game?” A kid added and Shiro nodded as he laughed.

“Like a video game.”

Chairs squeaked and screeched as footsteps almost shook the room as people ran up to the flight simulator pushing each other. Lance was one of these children. Who managed to snag a spot third in line and waited.

The first kid lasted ten seconds. Before jumping and handing the headset to the kid in front of Lance. 

The second kid lasted twenty seconds.

Lance’s turn. He took the headset in his hands before putting it over his eyes as the controls were shoved into his hands.

He was in space. With what looked like a ship surrounding him, grey. He moved the controller experimentally and the ship lurched to the side and Lance gasped to himself. Then the asteroids started throwing themselves at Lance.

Lance avoided one, then two. There he found a rhythm, hyperfocusing on the situation. Until it was all he could focus on, he couldn’t hear his classmates arguing about why he was taking so long.

It was all he could think about. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and Lance jumped, right as an asteroid hit into him and in bold flashing letters it said.  _ YOUR TIME WAS 6:32  _ Lance took the headset off and handed it to the person behind him.

_ What just happened?  _ Lance thought as he sat down in his seat, in a daze for lack of a better word. While everyone else was on the flight simulator Shiro walked over to in front of his desk and Lance forgot how to breathe.

“That was a really good time, I didn’t get that far on my first try,” Shiro said, before putting what looked like a pamphlet on the table. “They pay cadets you know. Not a lot, but it’s above minimum wage. It’s hard work to get in.”

“Shouldn’t become a pilot for the money,” Lance managed to respond after unscrambling his thoughts. “No matter how much.”

Shiro pulled a chair up, and sat down on that chair. “Look. Kid. I don’t really know you, hell, I’m not going to pretend to know you. But, people have become greater things for less, I have a feeling nothing about your money concerns had to do with you.”

Lance just gave a half-shrug. Shiro sighed. “Okay… remember, wanting to be comfortable isn’t selfish. I wanted it too when I was a kid.”

What stuck in his head wasn’t that Takashi Shirogane had ever worried about money, it wasn’t that. It was how quickly Shiro figured out Lance, when not even his teachers or friends had managed to work it out.

Lance shoved the pamphlet into his bag. Where it stayed. For a long time.

* * *

His mother was sighing, looking over the small pile of bills that had remained unpaid. _ ATRASADO  _ the bills read in bright red and bold letters. Lance gulped, he wasn’t supposed to be seeing this.

He took a step back and then flung himself into his bedroom.

Lance had always wanted to be a teacher, it was just something that he wanted more than anything. To make a difference in people's lives, in kids lives, to commit to something that was more important than himself.

It was a precious thing to be able to do that and Lance would always be lucky that he was in a situation where he could consider doing that. Wasn’t Shiro a teacher? Lance could maybe figure this out so he ended up teaching people anyway.

Even if Lance washed out in a year it was still some money back home, and less money off their backs. Less food, no more school fees, less electricity bill and less cooling. 

He didn’t want to be a pilot. 

He wanted to be a teacher.

But Lance was never one to let someone else suffer, especially when his plan was right in front of him and he could’ve stopped his family from suffering that much. He found his bag and the screwed up slightly ripped pamphlet from almost six months ago and looked at it.

* * *

He made it in. Lance knew he would, he’d become fixated on getting in. It only took his second try. It didn’t matter if he was only a cargo pilot. It was still money being sent home, it was still Lance fighting for a better future for his family.

Sometimes it dawned on him that he was the youngest child, and why did he always feel like he needed to provide for everyone else when he couldn’t provide for himself.

His Mama had tried to get him to stay. But they both knew that you couldn’t make Lance do anything that he didn’t want to. So it was almost inevitable that he left to help out his family.

* * *

He met Hunk on his second day. He was in the fighter class, and Lance was… not. He was just a cargo pilot, but he was more than fine with that.

It went like this: Two people were bullying Hunk, calling him fat and ugly and Hunk was just looking bored as possible. Lance has seen the look in his siblings before, it’s when the teasing goes slightly too far. Trying not to cry.

Lance crossed his arms. His brother instincts scream at him and he coughs loudly. “What the joder are you doing?” Lance snapped, before realising he’d sworn in Spanish. Of course he had.

“Oh. The immigrant.” Someone said bluntly and Lance raised his eyebrows. “Go back to where you came from!” They said flippantly, like this was something they always said.

“Me cago la madre que te parió!” Lance snapped and they looked at him before Lance realised he’d slipped into Spanish. Then he was slightly grateful for it because if his mother had heard him saying that she’d beat him up. “It means what are you doing?” Lance lied.

“Just havin’ fun,” the one who hadn’t told him to go back to where he came from said and Lance pressed his lips together into a thin line as he glared. 

“Go away,” Lance said, “I’ll get Captain Shirogane,” he snapped. Which while sad reasoning, worked easily because the two boys scampered off and Lance walked to sit down in front of what would soon be his best friend.

“I’m Lance. Lance McClain, I’m new and lost, do you know where the everloving heck is the…” he looked down at his timetable, taking a moment too long to try and translate the words properly.

Sure, he could speak English like he could breathe. But put it on a piece of paper and then he was dazed, confused and his head would hurt a little. “What does this say?” He hands the paper to the boy, who was Hunk, but at the time Lance didn’t know that.

“Uh… maths?”

“Oh no,” Lance muttered, snatching the paper back. He groaned. 

“I’m Hunk. Hunk Garret,” he held out his hand which Lance shook. “What class are you, fighter or cargo?”

“Cargo, but it’s also my second day,” Lance said, squinting at the timetable. That did say flying next right? Yeah, yeah it did. “What about you?”

“Fighter.”

“Woah!” Lance said, smiling widely. “So you’re my new best friend. Can you do maths?”   
  


“Yeah?”

“Are you nice?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“You’re hired,” Lance said, with some finger guns and looking back on it. Hunk probably should’ve figured out he was a raging bisexual right then. In fact, Lance should’ve figured it out right then.

But neither of them did. That was to come later.

“What’s the pay like?” Hunk asked.

“Millions a year,” Lance joked back.

Hunk just laughed.

Then they were friends. Just like that.

* * *

“I don’t get it!” Lance had thrown his book at the wall, early in the morning. “I can’t read the dumb words!” 

Hunk picked up the book, putting it back on the desk in the library. Apologising to the librarian who seemed too amused to be mad about it. “Come on buddy, you’re doing better already.”

“I hate English. Why are flour and flower so similar? Harina and flor make more sense!” He threw himself back on his seat. “I’ll just translate everything I’ve ever read into Spanish and then read it.”

“Didn’t you learn English in Cuba?”

“To speak it! Not reading it, the official language is Spanish. The only English words I know are things for tourists.” He hit his head on the table. Once, then twice. Then once more for good measure. “I’m stupid, I should go back home.”

“What?” Hunk basically screeched, “Lance. You’re learning two languages, most people are lucky if they can speak one, let alone write it. You’re not stupid, you’re learning.”

“I feel stupid.”   
  


“You’re not.” Hunk said in a voice that left no room for argument, not even a tiny bit. “You might feel it. You’re not. I’ve met a lot of stupid people here and you aren’t one.”

“Thanks Hunk,” Lance muttered. Opening his book again with a small sigh. He could do this. If he could learn how to fly and learn how to do maths he could learn to write and read English.

* * *

“Lance, can you stay behind?” That was Commander Wright. The class ‘oohed’ around him before leaving without a fuss. Lance closed his books and collected them in his arms, walking to the desk. Hugging them to his chest.

“What do you need?” Lance managed.

“Have you been practising English? The writing and reading.”

“Uh. Yes.” Lance tilted his head a bit, trying to see where on Earth this was going.

Commander Wright just smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m glad. You can tell. At this rate Lance, you’ll be top of the class in no time.”

“Wait, really?”

The door flung open, and it was Keith Kogane. Lance knew that Keith didn’t know who he was, but everyone knew who Keith was. Shiro’s prodigy, the kid who bet Shiro’s best flight simulator score one day when he was just mucking around.

“Adam, Shiro needs your help — ” Keith’s eyes settled on Lance. Then looked back at Commander Wright who looked tired to say the least. “He got his leg stuck in a bucket.”

Commander Wright sighed, a long sigh that Lance could tell meant this had happened too many times. “Okay, give me just a moment.”

The door closed and Lance stared at the door for a moment longer. Before Commander Wright tapped on the desk and Lance looked back at him. 

“What an idiot,” Commander Wright muttered. Lance knew that voice, it was filled with the most affection that someone could manage. Like when his parents called each other idiota’s in the kindest voice, which sounded like it should be used to confess an undying love.

Lance knew. Years later, when Shiro told them, while Hunk and Pidge were shocked Lance knew.

“Is that all you’d like Commander Wright?”

“Yes. That is all.” He stood up, “Now to get Takashi out of a bucket.”

* * *

“I’m just saying, sneaking out and going to McDonalds, is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Lance said.

It was late at night and Hunk and Lance were in their dorm. Lance was hanging upside down from his bunk bed and not scared at all because this was nothing compared to gymnastics which he had done for seven years so could hang off most surfaces without being scared.

“McDonalds don’t even have good food,” Hunk muttered. “You can cook better than them.”

“Hey! I can cook.”

“When?” Hunk asked and Lance just rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not about the goodness of the food, it’s about the existence of a greasy awful pile of food that you stuff into your mouth.”

“Do you have McDonalds in Cuba?”

“I think there’s like one. For tourists. I never went to any of them, the first time I had McDonalds was when I came over for The Garrison and my brother Marco took me with his girlfriend.”

They stayed there in silence for a little bit longer. “Why do you hate Keith?”

Lance almost fell, but managed to catch himself in time. “I don’t hate anyone.”

“You seem to hate him though,” Hunk said, curling up in the chair he was sitting in. 

“I don’t hate him,” Lance muttered. “I just don’t— feelings. There are a lot of feelings and I’m not sure what to do.”

“What kind of feelings?” Hunk asked, looking at Lance, earnestly.

“All of them,” Lance said, “Just so many feelings. Feelings. Ugh.” He flipped off the bed, mainly because it impressed Hunk and also because doing flips was fun. Hunk made a gasping noise as Lance threw himself onto Hunk’s bed.

“You watch too many Spanish soap-operas.”

“You don’t watch enough.” 

“Great insult Lance.”

“Shut up!” Lance yelled, “I’m firing you.”

* * *

The first time someone actively tried to beat him up, Lance got pretty beaten up. People were telling him to, “go back where you came from”. Which Lance wasn’t taking greatly to. He groaned as someone kneed him in the stomach and he doubled over.

“Fuck. Off.” Lance spat, because using Spanish here was quite risky, otherwise he’d get beaten up even more. If he was at home he’d be swearing frantically in Spanish like his entire life depended on it. “I earned my place like you dipshit!”

“You’re a quota the academy needs to fill. Don’t forget that.” Whoever was beating him up said and Lance just groaned as someone slammed their knee into his nose and Lance yelped as he heard a crack.

Then blood came spouting out of his nose and the door of the empty classroom closed as Lance held his nose and leant forward like his parents had taught him to do from the many blood noses he got as he was a child. The door opened again and Lance looked up.

Keith Kogane. He eyed Lance up and down, then the small puddle of blood at Lance’s feet. “Are you okay?” His eyes were judging.

“Obviously,” Lance snapped, his voice too stuffy to make him sound pissed and more like he’d been crying. Which he had not been crying. “Most people just have blood at their feet.”

Keith stepped forwards, “What happened?” 

“Why the fuck do you care?” Lance spat, “Do you have a tissue though?”

Keith shook his head, his mullet-looking situation moving with him as he did it. He stepped forward and Lance froze. “If you’re here to beat me up too, I’ll tell Shiro.”

“You got beaten up?”

“How else is my nose bleeding like this?” Lance raised his hand that wasn’t holding his nose in a quite futile attempt to stop the damn bleeding. 

“You might’ve smashed your nose on the table, you seem like the type.”

Lance ignored him, “Look. Why are you actually in here?”

“Left my books,” Keith walked past him and scooped up a pile of books that were on a desk, which Lance hadn’t seen.

Because… y’know, he was being beat up, and didn’t really care that much about what books were or weren’t in the empty classroom he got dragged into.

“Who did this?” Keith asked, looking at Lance, eyes narrowed. 

“Dunno,” Lance only part lied, he had a few ideas of who it could possibly be but again, hadn’t seen a lot because he was being beaten up. “Knowing my luck, someone semi-popular so life will be hell.”

“You can always tell someone.”

“Ha. They’ll tell me to ignore it. I’m not an idiot Kogane.”

Lance proceeded to get up and leave, leaving Keith Kogane quite confused. 

He didn’t go to anymore classes that day.

* * *

“Lance, can you stay after class?” Commander Wright said, and Lance got the feeling of deja vu. As the class collectively went, “ooh!” Again, deja vu. 

They all scrambled out but Lance took his time, collecting his stuff before walking up to Commander Wright’s desk, who looked a little bit tired. And there was a bruise on his neck barely covered by the uniform.

Okay then. Right. Cool.

The door flung open, and Keith Kogane was there. Again, he just seemed to keep popping up at important times. “Still owe me therapy Adam!” Then closed the door and that was it. Lance looked between the closed door, to Commander Wright then back at the doo.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind, he’s being dramatic. Honestly, you raise this child in hopes he isn’t a drama queen like Shiro and he’s like that, you are getting me off topic.” 

“Wait you did what?” Lance asked, “Is Keith your kid?”

Commander Wright laughed and shook his head. “No. You think something that chaotic could be mine? He’s more Shiro’s kid.”

“He’s what?”

“Not actually,” he clarified, before waving a hand. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about me, I asked you here because… well. Let’s put this in a way that Keith would. What the fuck is that bruise?”

Lance’s mind goes on shutdown for a few seconds. A few very long seconds. Because first, a teacher swore. Second, someone who isn’t Hunk is getting suspicious and that’s worrying. His hand shot up to the bruise around his eye.

Who was it? Kaden probably.

“Uh… I—” 

_ Smooth Lance. Real smooth. Smooth as a cactus. _

“You don’t have to tell me anything Lance, I’m just worried.” He said with a parental smile, like the one his papa would do at him whenever Lance brought home low marks. 

Lance half expected Adam to say, “I know you’re better than this, so what’s up?” But he doesn’t and Lance is still left without an answer.

“Just some kids, y’know. Boys messing around.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, almost like he’s heard this before. “When I was a kid the only ‘messing around’ that ended up like that was me being bullied.”

Ah. Lance realised, at this moment, that one. He fucked up, and two, that he backed himself into a right old corner.

“I can handle it Commander Wright. I’m the youngest of five children, I can handle being thrown around a little bit.”

He looked as skeptical as Lance felt.

* * *

Then Keith was kicked out and for some apparently unknown reason Iverson only had one eye now and mysteriously kept one closed. Also, mysterious, a knife from the weapons room was a bit blunter in the end.

Like it had landed in someone’s eye.

More shockingly, this meant Lance was now training to be a fighter pilot. As they needed a certain amount of people, Lance, who was the top cargo pilot, got moved up. The pay being sent back home upped too.

As this course was more dangerous.

When Lance saw the amount of money that his family got if he died in this course Lance considered for a split second ruining the wires of his shuttle, so it exploded. Then he realised he was being stupid.

Still, he considered it for almost too long.

* * *

He met Pidge, a year later. When he was sixteen, a little bit too gangly with a little bit too much acne as his voice was finally settling down little, not a lot, but enough that he didn’t always look like a complete idiot. Only sometimes.

Lance met Pidge because the pair of them got thrown on their asses and then Lance got kicked in the nose and started bleeding while Pidge had to fix it. Which deserves more than that sentence.

It started like a normal day. Lance was holding onto his books, while reading one of his own, Bridge of Clay, an old Australian book by an Australian author. This way Lance could practice his reading, which he was pretty good at now. Not as good as a native, but he was getting close.

Now. Here’s the thing, people here hated Lance. For a few reasons, mainly because he was loud and cocky and also because he wasn’t born here and everyone was ever so lovely to him because he was essentially an immigrant.

Which made Lance an easy target, because he was mostly bones and he’d been bullied and thrown around before, until Commander Wright came in and threatened to expel everyone beating up Lance.

And since Commander Wright had been in an awful mood ever since Shiro died on the mission and he was snapping like a piece of pasta before it got put in the pot. Commander Wright, however, did seem to have a soft spot for Lance.

But, yes. Pidge.

Pidge was new, and at the time Lance thought she was a boy, so when telling any stories about Pidge it got really confusing really quickly.

Pidge and him were easy targets. So when someone grabbed Lance and dragged him into a classroom his only thought was.  _ Seriously. I’m trying to get to class. Don’t these guys have hobbies? _

The answer, apparently, was no. Someone else was in there too, what Lance thought was a young boy, with orange-brown hair and large glasses that took up most of their face. Who looked bored at the best.

“Oh hey,” they said. “I’m Pidge.”

“Lance.” Lance responded and then there was shooting pain in his nose and he hit the ground. Another blood nose. “You’re fucking kidding,” Lance muttered, but again, his nose was too stuffy and blocked from the blood to be very easy to hear.

The “boy” Pidge, glared at the other boys. Then, in a smart move. Pidge opened her mouth and screamed, a loud echoing scream that echoed off the wall. Apparently the bullies couldn’t handle someone actually screaming. Because they were gone after that.

Pidge pulled a tissue out of her pocket, and handed it to Lance. “Lean forwards, block your nose.”

“I nose.”

Pidge remained silent for a moment, and Lance didn’t know if she was about to hit him or start laughing. She instead started laughing, not a lot, just a small bit. 

Which was how Pidge Holt and Lance McClain became friends. A bad pun.

* * *

Lance recognised that mullet and he was going to go after that mullet, because forbid if the dropout did something that Lance didn’t.

Maybe if Lance knew what was about to happen he wouldn’t have gone after Keith, maybe if Lance knew the pain and fighting and the living hell he’d be thrown into he would’ve stayed on the roof just looking.

However, he didn’t stay on the roof. 

That was the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, both chapters have the same amount of words. It's either exactly or like one of two off. While Keith's chapter has 19 pages because his sentences are shorter and sharper, with lots of dialogue. While Lance's is only twelve pages and I think that sums them up pretty well as characters.
> 
> The next chapter is just fluff. It's literally just Keith learning to trust people again in 10,000 words. Which I had a blast writing.
> 
> Also by the way, my favourite line out of this whole fic is: "If only anyone in that room had known what the universe had lined up for Lance McClain. Maybe then they would’ve cried a lot harder than they did." I think it's amazing and I want to sob thinking about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry. There's more of this shit, Lance's chapter and then. Boy o'Boy, do I have a lineup of gayness, fluff and occasional angst for you. And the pining, OH THE PINING!


End file.
